Doctor Who: The Visitation (2 page)

The large candelabra flickered as though to prove his point. 'You see!' Sir John crowed.

'Perhaps Ralph should fetch your shawl, Papa.'

Sir John frowned. He hated his shawl. To him it was the mark of an old man. Years may have aged his body, but not his spirit. 'Certainly not,' he said, clearing his throat, 'I'll have a warmer. Fetch me a posset, Ralph.'

Charles glared at his father as he picked up the pistols.

'You are incorrigible. Haven't you drunk enough already?'

Sir John started to shuffle the cards. He had anticipated disapproval. 'This is medicinal,'

he snapped. 'It helps keep the cold out.'

'Cold? We've barely scratched August, yet your consumption of this "medicine"

suggests we are but half a day from the winter solstice.'

Sir John grunted. But before he could think of an answer, Charles had marched out of the room.

'Insolent oaf!'

Pretending to be bothered by an itch, but really to hide the fact she was smiling, Elizabeth rubbed her nose with the flat of her hand. 'I think I should retire, too, Papa.'

'You remain seated,' he grumbled, starting to deal. 'I've brooked enough humiliation from my offspring for one evening. We will play one more game.

And this time I shall win.'

Elizabeth picked up the cards he had dealt her and fanned them out. 'You can certainly try, Papa,' she said, and smiled sweetly.

On the landing outside the main hall where the card game was still in progress, Charles stood before the heavy, oak gun cupboard, rummaging in his pocket for the key. As he searched, Ralph appeared carrying two candles.

'I thought you might need this, Master Charles.' Gratefully Charles took one of the candles and placed it on the floor near the cupboard.

Finally locating the key, Charles inserted it in the lock, but the lock was stiff and he had great difficulty in operating it.

'I think a little rendered sheep fat would work miracles,' said the old retainer, shuffling across the landing. 'I'll attend to it tomorrow.'

Just then the lock gave and, creaking loudly, the cupboard swung open to reveal a row of muskets.

'I take it you're not having a posset, Master Charles.'

'No, thank you.'

'Then I'll wish you good night.'

'Good night.'

The servant descended the back stairs and entered the passage that led to the kitchen, his feet making a crunching sound on the straw-covered floor.

Gradually he became aware that he was not alone. Ahead he could hear a low, hissing wheeze, which sounded like someone struggling for breath.

He stopped and held out his candle, but the light didn't spread far enough into the darkness for him to see who or what it was. 'Who's there?' he said uncertainly. 'I can hear you. But there was no reply. Instead the hissing grew louder as it moved closer.

Ralph began to back down the passage, his nervous fingers easing the candle from its heavy base. Suddenly there was a loud roar. Ralph screamed and hurled the candlestick into the dark, before turning and fleeing back along the passage.

Heart pounding, leg muscles heavy with fear, the old man ran as fast as he could. As he emerged from the passage, he saw Charles running down the stairs. 'Fetch a pistol, Master Charles. There's some...' But before he could finish the sentence, a loud whining noise was heard as a narrow pencil-beam of green light shot from the tunnel, striking Ralph in the back. The old servant screamed as he collapsed, his candle rolling across the floor.

Horrified, Charles turned and rushed up the stairs to the armoury cupboard. Flinging open the unlocked doors, he snatched up a pistol and started to prime it, his eyes constantly darting between the weapon and the stairs.

With the gun loaded, Charles poured a little powder into the flash pan. As he was doing this, he became aware of a massive figure standing at the foot of the stairs.

'Who's there?' Charles called. 'I'll shoot if you don't reply.'

Like a death rattle, the whining sound was heard again and the thin beam of green light exploded against the baluster in front of him.

Charles fired his pistol. The huge creature roared in pain and collapsed, his leg shattered.

Quickly Charles reloaded his pistol as the main door was flung open and Sir John rushed onto the landing. 'Fire and brimstone!' he screamed. 'And what do you think you are doing, sir?'

Charles thrust a pistol into his father's hand. 'Load this,' he said urgently. 'There's something down there with a gun the likes of which I've never seen before.'

Sir John did as instructed. 'Where's Ralph?'

'I fear he's hit.' And as Charles spoke, another beam of light was fired, this time striking the armoury cupboard. 'Look!' he shouted.

The strange creature was dragging his massive form across the floor to the passage leading to the kitchen.

With weapons loaded, both men fired. The creature roared and screamed, then rolled onto his back. In the darkness, thin yellow fluid spurted from his wounds.

'What was it?' Sir John whispered in a voice hoarse with fear.

Before Charles could comment, they heard a hammering and splintering of wood coming from the direction of the great hall.

'Father! Charles! Quick!' shouted a terrified Elizabeth.

Grabbing muskets and ammunition, Sir John and Charles ran to join Elizabeth. They could hear the heavy front door being torn from its hinges.

'What's happening, Papa?'

'Would it be too obvious to say we were under attack?'

'But from whom?'

There were heavy, metallic footsteps in the hallway. 'From whatever that thing is,'

muttered Sir John.

Charles handed his sister a musket and quickly the family loaded their weapons. This was no sooner done than the door of the room was flung open. The trio cocked their muskets. Standing in the doorway was what appeared to be a man in a steel suit.

'This one's wearing armour.'

'Our shot stopped his comrade on the stairs, father. And armour at this range is useless.' Charles raised his musket. 'Come on,' he shouted.

Elizabeth and Sir John also levelled their weapons. The intruder remained impassive as three ear-splitting shots were fired at him. Then slowly the steel shape raised a finger in an accusatorial manner, and several bolts of light were hurled against the horrified trio.

A moment later, all that remained of the family were three charred, smoking bodies.

Aboard the TARDIS, Nyssa watched as Tegan, the Doctor's air-hostess companion, packed her few belongings into a shoulder-bag. She was going home, back to her own time. At least, that's what the Doctor had promised.

Carefully Tegan brushed smooth the wrinkled cover of her bed.

'I won't be sleeping here again,' she said sadly, looking round the room she had shared with Nyssa for what seemed like an age. Its mixture of Art Deco and Victorian furnishings had never really pleased her, but now she was going she would quite miss it.

'I know I've made so much fuss about going home...' She was unable to finish the sentence. She swallowed hard and wiped away a tear. 'I'm being silly.'

'Of course you're not.' Nyssa picked up Tegan's uniform jacket and helped her put it on.

'You'll soon settle down.'

'I hope so. It's going to be pretty unbearable if I don't.' With her jacket fastened, Tegan fumbled with the catch on her bag, more for something to do with her hands than to check if it was secure.

'At least you won't have any awkward questions to answer about where you've been.'

'So the Doctor said.' Tegan picked up her bag and followed Nyssa out of the room. 'But I don't understand how.'

'Such is time travel. You'll arrive at the airport exactly on time for the flight you were supposed to catch. And as though nothing had happened.'

'Tell that to Aunt Vanessa,' Tegan muttered, remembering how her favourite relation had been murdered by the Master during that fateful journey to Heathrow.

'I'm sorry,' said Nyssa, 'I'd forgotten.'

Tegan smiled weakly. 'It's me who should apologise.' Tears welled up in her eyes again. 'I know I haven't been the best of companions, but I'm going to miss you . . . all of you.' The two women hugged each other.

'We'll miss you, too, Tegan.'

The Doctor stood before the console, the time rotor now stationary. 'Earth,' he said confidently. 'Heathrow 1981. Not one of the most stimulating places in the Universe.

But, nevertheless, where requested to be.' The Doctor pressed a button on the console, and the shield covering the scanner-screen rose. Adric, who had been busily working on some calculations, had not heard the Doctor's remark. It was the Time Lord's groan of despair that broke into his thought.

Adric looked up and then glanced across at the screen. Instead of Heathrow Airport there were trees - a whole forest full.

'I've done it again,' the Doctor moaned, and at that very moment Tegan entered the console room. Attempting to hide his blunder, the Doctor fumbled with the scanner-screen control, but he was too late.

'Is that supposed to be Heathrow?' she shouted, a rigid finger pointing at the screen.

'It is,' said Adric firmly.

'Wel , they've let the grass grow since I was last here.'

'Actually, they haven't built the airport yet,' Adric continued. 'We're about three hundred years early.'

'That's great! Perhaps I should slip outside and file a claim on the land. When they get around to inventing the aeroplane, I'll make a fortune!'

The Doctor tried to explain what had gone wrong with the TARDIS, but Tegan was too angry to listen. Instead she stormed over to the console and operated the door-opening mechanism. 'Call yourself a Time Lord,' she shouted. 'A broken clock keeps better time than you. At least it's right twice a day, which is more than you are!' That said, she stalked out of the TARDIS.

The Doctor fumed for a moment. 'How dare she talk to me like that!'

Nyssa, who had heard them arguing as she came down the corridor, tried to pacify the Doctor. 'I think she's finding the idea of going more painful than she thought.'

'Then why didn't she say so?'

Nyssa shrugged. 'That's Tegan. Perhaps you should talk to her.'

The Doctor looked at Adric hoping for support, but his expression seemed to echo Nyssa's words. 'Oh, all right,' he said at last, 'I'll apologise.'

Reluctantly he picked up his hat. 'But this is the last time,' he muttered as he left the TARDIS.

Pleased with their success as arbitrators, Nyssa and Adric exchanged a smile before following him.

The wood outside was warm and sunny. Tegan brushed a tear from her eye as the Doctor approached. Nyssa and Adric had decided to maintain a discreet distance.

Apologising was something best done alone.

'I'm sorry,' the Doctor said awkwardly. 'I realise how disappointed you must be.'

Tegan turned towards the Doctor. 'I'm sorry, too. But you did promise to take me back to my own time.'

'And so I shall.' The Doctor snapped a twig from a low-hanging branch. 'But try and consider this a fortunate mistake.' And using the twig as a pointer, he indicated the wood about them. 'It isn't everyone who has a chance to wander about their own history.'

Tegan looked around. 'True. But I don't think I want to. This place stinks.'

'What?' The Doctor's hackles began to rise again. Then the foul smell hit him.

'Look, Doctor,' said Adric pointing at whisps of smoke hanging in the air. The Doctor sniffed. 'Sulphur.'

'Some sort of volcanic action?'

'No, Adric. The wrong time and place for that.'

Tegan drove the heel of her shoe into the ground. 'Are you sure this is the planet Earth?'

'Undoubtedly.' He walked back to the TARDIS and closed its doors. 'If we find the person burning the sulphur, he'll tell you the same, and perhaps you'll believe him.'

Tegan frowned. 'I'm not sure I want to find whoever it is.' But the Doctor was already walking single-mindedly deeper into the forest. Tegan watched the intrepid explorer. 'I don't know why I bother to say anything,' she muttered, and reluctantly the Doctor's three companions followed him.

From high in a tree a masked man watched their progress as they stumbled along.

Once they had passed by beneath him, he leaned out carefully from his perch and made four short staccato movements in the air with his club. The signal was acknowledged by another masked man similarly situated several hundred yards ahead of the Doctor's party.

The smoke grew denser as the little group walked even deeper into the forest.

'Do you think it wise to go on, Doctor?' said Nyssa anxiously.

'Probably not.' He sniffed the air. 'You know, there's potassium nitrate in with the sulphur. I can just smel it.'

'That's great!' said Tegan. 'All we need now is for you to say you can smell charcoal.'